Great Again
by Probaithius
Summary: From the depths of defeat, ThunderClan will rise. But this time, fire won't be what saves the Clan.
1. Prologue

**AN: I do** **not** **own the** **Warriors series.**

 **Prologue**

In a deserted clearing, an old gray she-cat sat alone, staring up at the clear night sky. All around her in the shadows she could hear the breathing and stirrings of sleeping cats. A small tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quick and soundless.

The gray cat dipped her head in greeting. "How is Mousefur?" she meowed. "Her wounds are deep, Bluestar," answered the tortoiseshell, settling herself on the night-cool grass. "But she is young and strong; she will heal quickly."

"And the others?"

"They will all recover, too."

Bluestar sighed. "We are lucky not to have lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf." She tilted her head again and studied the stars. "I am deeply troubled by tonight's defeat at the hands of RiverClan. ThunderClan has not been beaten in its own territory since I became leader," she murmured. "These are difficult times for our Clan. Bad trade deals have sent all of our jobs to ShadowClan, and we are always getting beaten at the border by WindClan illegals."

"But the year is only just beginning," Spottedleaf pointed out calmly. "There will be more kits when greenleaf comes."

The gray cat twitched her broad shoulders. "Perhaps. But training our young to become warriors takes time. If ThunderClan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon as possible."

"Are you asking StarClan for answers?" meowed Spottedleaf gently, following Bluestar's gaze and staring up at the swath of stars glittering in the dark sky.

"It is at times like this we need the words of ancient warriors to help us. Has StarClan spoken to you?" Bluestar asked.

"Not for some moons, Bluestar."

Suddenly a shooting star blazed over the treetops. Spottedleaf's tail twitched and the fur along her spine bristled.

Bluestar's ears pricked but she remained silent as Spottedleaf continued to gaze upward. After a few moments, Spottedleaf lowered her head and turned to Bluestar. "It was a message from StarClan," she murmured. A distant look came into her eyes. "Trump alone can save our Clan."

"Trump?" Bluestar echoed. "What is this Trump, and how can it save us?" Spottedleaf shook her head. "I do not know," she admitted. "But this is the message StarClan has chosen to share with me."

The ThunderClan leader fixed her clear blue eyes on the medicine cat. "You have never been wrong before, Spottedleaf," she meowed. "If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Trump will save our Clan."


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Trumpkit blinked his eyes open and was immediately bombarded by an avalanche of sensations. The first thing he felt was the warmth of a soft white pelt enveloping him in a cocoon of comfort. As he took in the surroundings of the nursery and the presence of what had to be his mother, memories came back to him in a rush.

Why wasn't he in the Oval Office? Why was he sleeping beside a cat, and for that matter, why _was_ he a cat?

And perhaps most importantly, did this mean that he no longer had access to Twitter?

That thought alone was enough to cause Trumpkit immense sorrow, and he immediately erupted into a fit of wailing. Trumpkit's mother was promptly awakened, and allowed her kit to suckle on her milk, much to his unexpected delight.

The entrance to the nursery parted, and in came a distinguished looking blue-gray she-cat.

"Welcome, Bluestar." Trumpkit's mother meowed respectfully.

"Frostfur," Bluestar replied. "I trust your kit is doing well." She seemed to take in Trumpkit's artificially orange pelt and the tacky golden markings on his head with a trace of disgust, and the young kit squirmed under her scrutiny.

"He's doing _very_ well, thank you very much," Frostfur replied with a hint of a challenge in her tone, sensing Bluestar's negative appraisal. "I have named him Trumpkit."

Bluestar's jaw dropped momentarily before she attempted to hide her blatant shock. Trumpkit gave a little smirk. Was he truly this well known even among the cats? He wondered if this would help his re-election chances.

"Tr- _Trumpkit_?" Bluestar replied astonishedly. "That's a...unique name. How did you come by it?"

"I don't really know," Frostfur responded, turning to Trumpkit with a loving gaze. "It just popped into my head."

"Great StarClan," Bluestar murmured, before abruptly turning and exiting the nursery.

Trumpkit then went back to suckling his mother's milk with the rabid desperation of a president that was about to be impeached.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

As the moons passed, Trumpkit became more and more adjusted to his new life in ThunderClan. He repeatedly trounced Dustkit, Ravenkit, and Graykit in a series of mock elections, even though pollster cats projected the outcome in favor of his opponent every time. He fascinated the elders with lessons on negotiation tactics.

"A strong pawshake is key," Trumpkit declared confidently. "That's how every cat will know you mean business." He raised his eyebrows suggestively at Dappletail while demonstrating, causing her to blush while Halftail and Smallear exchanged bewildered glances.

Trumpkit put his negotiation skills to good use when he convinced Bluestar to allow him to become an apprentice a half-moon early. He definitely noticed how Bluestar and Spottedleaf had faraway looks in their eyes whenever he addressed them, and was pleased to discover that he had the same effect on she-cats as he did on women. Besides, Spottedleaf was a total _babe_.

On the day of his naming ceremony, Bluestar leaped up onto the Highrock and yowled, "Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting."

Her clear call brought all the cats trotting toward her, emerging like liquid shadows from the edges of the clearing. The cats settled themselves below the Highrock and looked expectantly up at their leader.

When everyone was still, Bluestar spoke.

"Today, we are assembled for a tradition as old as the Clans. The naming ceremony marks a rite of-" Bluestar was interrupted by Trumpkit's sudden leap onto the Highrock.

"Thank you Bluestar, thank you," Trumpkit meowed boastfully. "I will be the greatest jobs apprentice that StarClan ever created. Believe me folks, believe me. I will make ThunderClan great again!" He smugly tilted his nose upward while the rest of the Clan remained in a shocked silence.

"...Right." Bluestar responded after she composed herself. "Now, if you would kindly get down, we have a naming ceremony to conclude."

Trumpkit leaped gracefully off of the Highrock and ruffled his already windswept golden toupee, much to the delight of the surrounding she-cats.

"Henceforth, this young apprentice should be known as Trumppaw." Bluestar projected her voice from the height of the Highrock. "Tigerclaw, you will be in charge of mentoring our newest apprentice until he reaches warrior status."

Tigerclaw's irate "What?" was drowned out by the jubilant exclamations of "Trumppaw!Trumppaw!Trumppaw!" that erupted from every cat in the clan.

As Trumppaw drank in the praise, one thing became very clear to him: this was _his_ Clan now.


End file.
